


I Know

by doctorfourteen



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Royai - Freeform, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 17:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12752457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorfourteen/pseuds/doctorfourteen
Summary: To entrust him with her life, was not something that she asked for. If she was meant to die for his sake, it was meant to be. But instead she had chosen to entrust him with the entirety of her being.Roy and Riza reflect on the events of their shared history as Riza comes to terms with her actions throughout the years and the suffering that she has held onto. Their are words that do not need to be said, a shared understanding of perception, history and morality.





	I Know

“Does it still hurt?” 

Eyes remain fixated on a crease in the bedlinen of her hospital bed as she hears his words, she barely shifts from her position. She is lost in a moment where her mind has idly wandered into dark territory, straying into memories best left untouched — his words reach out to her, shifting her awareness to the familiarity of his voice. 

His sight returns, sharpening day by day. He is reassured that it is only a matter of time now before he re-adjusts to the brightness of his surroundings. The wound at her neck heals at its own pace, while only the darkest of bruises and deeper of scratches remain. 

 

“Nothing that I can’t handle, sir.” 

“That wasn’t what I asked, lieuenant.” He states plainly. 

Her breath halts briefly, followed by a short, but sharp intake. As though she stalls, fully considering her response to a question intimate enough for only him to ask of her. “A little, sir.” 

Fingers draw on the material of the cardigan, pulling it closer around her shoulders, a little tighter as a chill rushes through her body. At her neck, the bandages catch the back of her hand —it is tender, but by no means intolerable. The worst of her suffering has since passed, her body recovers slowly as days inevitably pass. 

“It comes and goes. We’ve both known worse, sir. It hardly bears thinking about.”

A careful hum escapes his lips, a midway point to a sigh and chuckle. He exhales, “I’m not sure that’s true — I’d like to believe that there’s always been worse, but this is the first time we’ve both toed the line so close to such loss. First Hughes —- the possibility of —-” The words trail thin. The possibility of losing you too.

“I know, sir.” A measured response to words that do not need to be spoken, an agreement of a silent conversation. “You should rest. It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted.”

His lips curve into a smile, “it has been a long day, though I’m not sure I’m the only one who needs the rest.” 

She holds a long silence, breathing dips as she tilts her head forwards, both hands moving to rest at her lap as fingers twiddle, wrapping themselves around the material of the blanket creating a temporary distraction as the restlessness grows. 

 

“I remember, lieutenant, a number years ago. We were stranded in an old house, awaiting supplies and back up. It was cold that night — you told me to keep my jacket on or you would shoot me, to not play the hero. Two nights and one day we were stuck there, not willing to lay down and die. We were too preoccupied with living to spare a thought for dying.” “I remember, colonel.” Her tone is quieter than and he looks away from her expression, knowing that if he looks to her eyes, he would see the tears forming at the edges that she tries to hide. So he pretends not to notice, feigns that a nail in the wall has captured his attention. 

“I was tired, it was getting late. You said we should take it in turns to keep watch so the other could sleep. I slept the whole night, but you didn’t wake me.” 

“You seemed tired sir, I had a duty of care as your subordinate, I made you a promise to stay by your side, to always hold onto your best interests. You needed the rest more than I did.” 

“I know you’re finding this hard, lieutenant. Even when I was blind, I wasn’t figuratively blinded. Following me hasn’t been easy and we’ve been together for a long time, you’ve always been at my side, everything that I have seen, you have seen and more.” 

If it weren’t so late at night, if she wasn’t so certain that they were completely alone she might’ve stifled her tears, to find some way to maintain the dam that threatens to burst at any given moment. It’s isn’t a bravery that she finds way and reason to hide such emotion, it stays buried out of fear that if it resurfaces, the walls that have been so carefully built to keep things such a depth of events and feelings hidden, she may not be able to rebuild them. 

 

“I’ve asked things of you that I should never have asked and for that I am sorry.” 

“You never asked me because you didn’t need to. Whatever you needed, I would have given to you and without hesitation.” 

“Even flowers?” He asks, her stiff resolve cracks and he hears a weak laugh, her eyes close and she shakes her head. The tips of her fingers disentangle themselves from the bedding, the hind of her hand wiping away the tears cresting in her eyes. 

“If necessary to the task at hand, of course.” She offers, he takes the wavering of her sadness in his stride. “Flowers barely grew in Ishval, even the trees struggled to grow in the climate.” She noted, her thoughts always drawn back to Ishval. Dark weeds strained through the cracks in rubble, left behind by the destruction of war. She could still hear her father’s voice as he commented that life always seems to have a way to grow and continue, that it finds a way to thrive regardless of such a circumstance — that perhaps the wet of blood sustained what little growth there had been in such a tragic place. 

 

It hadn’t been Roy who had asked those things of her, he had never intentionally put her in such a position. It was of her own methods that she had come to find herself on the frontline and at his side no less, a mishap of chance and sheer, dumb luck. There was no other party responsible for her actions in the wars, the guns had not fired themselves and she had acted of her own volition — whatever she was left to feel now was the fair result of her actions. 

She had asked things of him too, he had helped her to pull together the arrangements for a funeral, helped her to conceal the dark secrets indented on her back at sacrifice to his own will. He had stayed by her side, tending to the wounds that shifted to scars on her flesh, hiding away truths about alchemy that should never be known — she had trusted such a monumental discovery to Roy and not for his sense of overwhelming idealism and the knowledge, understanding and sense that seemed to flood through his veins — rather more because she trusted him. 

To entrust him with her life, was not something that she asked for. If she was meant to die for his sake, it was meant to be. But instead she had chosen to entrust him with the entirety of her being and by his side re-building a better future, away from the dangerous methods of her father before her. 

 

“I can’t sleep.” She finally confesses to him, as his words have brought her at her own pace to a revelation. “I can’t sleep for the nightmares, sir.” She’s tired and he hears it in her voice. He hears that tone that states that not only is she exhausted by the recent events, but that the years have caught up with her and in the quietness of the hospital room, she has been forced to face them all at once. 

“Then it’s my turn to take watch, lieutenant. You’ve done enough now, it’s your turn to rest. I told you a long time ago that if there was anything you needed from me, you only had to ask. But I hope that you’ll extend me the same courtesy and listen to what I have to ask you.” He smiles, shifting from his perch on the end of his bed, where books lay at the foot, waiting duly to be studied in his absence from work. “It’s a terrible day for rain, isn’t it?” 

“That it is sir.” She notes with a nod, her lips curling, nose scrunching as the tears embellish her cheeks. A wall has broken within her and she crumples forwards, face buried in her hands, fingers kneading her aching temples. 

His hand rests itself on her shoulder, the touch brings about the impulse of a memory — drifting to the time where he had left her back scarred, the information emblazoned on her back painfully concealed. She had been so brave, even in asking him to do such a thing. 

 

“I’ll take first watch, rest. If something arises, I’ll wake you.” 

“I couldn’t ask that of you ——” she rises softly from her position.

“That’s why I’m offering, you aren’t asking anything of me.” A reassuring squeeze of her shoulder, her hand envelops his and he feels her holding tightly, as though she hangs from a parapet and he is holding onto her, should she let go she will fall. 

She shuffles her body lower, resting beneath the blankets, the pillow cradling her wounded neck. He sits himself on the floor at her side, hand taking the fingertips that hang just outside the blanket in a firm grasp. 

 

“Goodnight colonel.” 

“Goodnight lieutenant, I’ll be here.” 

“I know, sir.”


End file.
